


Stereotypes

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Jean works at a pastel themed cafe owned by Christa ayyee, M/M, Pastel!Jean, Punk!Marco, stupid boys flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jean learns not to stereotype people and works at a pastel themed cafe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stereotypes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am so it's pretty much trash.  
> Enjoy :3

You would think working at a pastel themed café would get you a lot of strange encounters. And it did, I had more strange experiences than I’d like to remember.

Like that time some big muscly guy came in and he was dressed in light pink short shorts with a tank top that had a sunset on it, not to mention he had one of the deepest voices I’d ever heard.

It’s not even the customers though. Like Eren Jaeger for example, he’s this angry, suicidal, bastard, yet here he is working in thigh-highs and hello kitty t-shirts.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. It had been a slow day, it was that time of year.

“Jean!” A small voice called from behind. Only to be known as Christa, the owner of this place.

“What’d’ya want from me?” I said, Christa and I were in a casual enough friendship that we could do that, even though she was my boss. We went to college together and after she graduated, she opened up this place. I had dropped out two years in, but we remained friends, and Christa was such a nice person that she offered me a job. At first I was a little reluctant, but over the past year I’ve really come to like the style and have actually started incorporating it into my personal style.

“I’m busy, can you get off your butt and go help the costumers that just walked in?” She giggled.

I had been sitting in the break room, since no one had come in. I decided to leave the place to Christa, it was just me and her today in the café.  

“Yeah, whatever.” I replied. Standing up, I glanced at myself in a mirror kept in there and ruffled my pink-striped, bleached undercut. Had to look presentable, and walked out to the front counter, taking site of the costumer. Most of our costumers consisted of petite little girls, but this person…

He was dressed in mostly black, save for his shirt, which was a dark red. Sleeves cut off, I could see the tattoos running down his arms, they varied from skulls to flowers. A chain hung from his ripped jeans, down to combat boots.

Looking at his overall style shouted “PUNK” but then you look at his face… He had so many freckles, all over his face, most on his cheeks. His nose looked… boopable… but there was a nose ring hanging out of it that didn’t look like it belonged there. The guys hair was the most normal thing about him, it was a simple undercut, much like mine, but the front was spiked up. Then, he had multiple piercings trailing up his ear, then one around his eyebrow, and from what I could tell, he was wearing eyeliner.

He didn’t look the part, far from it actually. The dude looked like he belonged in a place like this, going off his face. He was attractive, I had to admit.

He waved in my face, looking mildly concerned. “Hello, um, Jean?”

Pronounced like “Jeen”, I was about to question how he _almost_ knew my name before remembering _I wear a fucking nametag,_ you go Jean.

I didn’t bother correcting him on the pronunciation, thinking I’d never see him again. “Yeah, hi, what can I get you?” I sighed, irritably.

He furrowed his brow. “Yeah um… one Earl Grey tea with extra sugar added.” The guy held his hinds together and shuffled his feet, like he was nervous.

I told him his total and he handed over the money. I took out a cup. “Name?” I’ll admit, I was coming off harsh, but that was just my personality. Since he was the only one in the café, I didn’t need to ask. To be honest, I just wanted to know his name.

“Marco.” He, now Marco, grinned, but I could tell he was still uneasy.

Nodding, I wrote the name on the cup and took to making the drink. Marco decided to sit at the counter.

“So…” He started. “Business slow today?” He asked. So he was one of _those_ customers.

I groaned internally. “Yeah, you’re the only one that’s been in within the past two hours or so.” I turned away from the machine while the tea brewed.

“Um—“

“You know, you don’t really fit the style of punk… and you’re in a pastel café… I’m not connecting the dots.” It sounded a little harsher than I thought it would, but I really wanted an explanation, I was nosy like that.

Marco smiled nervously like he had before. “Yeah, you’re not the first one to say that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I like the style so I stick with it. That’s all that matters, right?”

“What about the café part?” A beeping noise came from the machine, notifying me the drink was ready. I picked up both the cup and poured the tea into it, moving to where we kept the sugar as Marco talked.

“I have a few friends who are into things like this, and they said you guys had really good tea here. I’m kind of a tea junky so I decided to try it out.” I could see tension releasing from him. “You don’t seem like you fit the role of this, you kind of seem like someone who would dress like me.” Marco scratched at his face, smiling.

“Shots fired, damn.” I moved to give him his tea, he thanked me.

Placing it to the side, to let it cool off I guessed, he asked, “So why are _you_ into the pastel style?”

“Long story short, one of my friends owns the place and she offered me a job. To be honest I absolutely _hated_ the style at first, but a job is a job. Eventually it just sort of grew on me.” I shrugged and leaned on the counter.

Marco nodded and took a sip of his tea. He hummed. “Bertholdt and Reiner were right.” Which was probably meant more for himself than me.

“So,” I started. “Um, what do you do?”

Marco looked up from his tea. “Oh, I work at a music shop not too far from here.”

I just nodded. There was more I wanted to say, I wanted to have a conversation with this person, but I couldn’t think up any topics.

“Are you alright?” There was confusion in his voice.

I hadn’t noticed, but I had been scowling. “Yeah, I was just… trying to think of more topics of conversation…” There was a blush in my cheeks, I could feel it.

He let out a short laugh. “Alright, how about we play twenty questions? I’ll start. What’s… your favorite color?”

“Wow lame, it’s red, like the color of your shirt.” Marco’s eyes widened. “Are you single?”

“Already jumping to those questions are we?” He smiled. “Yes, I am. What’s your “type”?”

“Guys like you.” I said nonchalantly, now Marco was the one blushing. “Are you into guys?”

“Yeah, I am.” He smiled sheepishly. “Do you do this to every guy that comes in?”

“No, you’re the only one that’s perked my interest.” Marco grinned, and _oh god was it cute_. “Would you consider me someone you’d date?”

“Indeed.” Humming into his words, Marco asked, “Would you give me your number if I asked?”

“Hell yeah I would. Do you want to get out of here when my shift is over? Which is in like… Whenever you finish.”

“I’d like that.” The smile he had made me feel all jittery inside. “Would you consider this “taking me out” our first date?”

“Only if you do. Are you done with your drink?” I was so damn proud of myself, look at me go.

Marco drained the last of it. “Yup. Where do you want to go?”

“Your choice. Alright game over, I’m going to go grab my things.” I grinned and Marco nodded, grinning back.

Never had I ever rushed to the backroom so fast, I grabbed my messenger bag. “CHRISTA I’M LEAVING!” In response, I heard the sound of her voice but couldn’t make out the words, but I didn’t care at that moment.

I rushed out front to see Marco standing by the front door. We smiled at each other as I made my way to stand next to him.

Marco perched the door open and held out his hand. “Alright, ready?”

Gladly, I took it. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated~ ^.^
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr :D](http://kirschtastic.tumblr.com/)


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